It's been quite a while since the first day I smelled the dirt and heard the moans of the laborers in the Japanese base camp. It didn't take me long to realize that it was nearly impossible for us to receive humane treatment from the Japanese people in this camp. It was more like I had to thank them for not burying me alive in the first place. So why am I here anyways, half naked, sweating and panting with all the fellow laborers around me? It wasn't like I hadn't resisted when they tried to bring me here. My life was at least cozy and happy with my parents and my baby sister back in Korea. Different from the way I look, I used to play yut games and Korean jacks with my sister and often went out on the streets with my mom. Who could have imagined that dreadful day to come so quickly for me? It was about midnight when the Japanese soldiers broke down our front door with their guns in their hands, all pointing it at us. It was like they were searching for something (or someone now I think of it), and I knew what was coming when their focus was brought upon me. The next step...I really do not want to recall. My dad, always with his patriotism and hatred of the Japanese, made an attempt to attack. I can still hear my mother's scream and the cry of my baby sister. The soldiers kept on shouting out orders that I couldn't understand at all and the next think I know I being forced towards the Seoul port where I would be shipped to Japan as a laborer or soldier or whatever would benefit our enemy nation; Japan.
The first few weeks in this camp was hell for me. It was probably hell for all boys that were on the same boat as me. I already saw many pass out right in front of my eyes. The hot weather and unbearable amount of labor made it impossible to even have a break to worry about my family back in Korea. Sometimes at night on my uncomfortable, bulky bunk I could hear the girls cry for help in agony. I don't want to imagine what it is they suffer from.
It's been quite a while since the first day I smelled the dirt and heard the moans of the laborers in the Japanese base camp. It didn't take me long to realize that it was nearly impossible for us to receive humane treatment from the Japanese people in this camp. It was more like I had to thank them for not burying me alive in the first place. So why am I here anyways, half naked, sweating and panting with all the fellow laborers around me? It wasn't like I hadn't resisted when they tried to bring me here. My life was at least cozy and happy with my parents and my baby sister back in Korea. Different from the way I look, I used to play yut games and Korean jacks with my sister and often went out on the streets with my mom. Who could have imagined that dreadful day to come so quickly for me? It was about midnight when the Japanese soldiers broke down our front door with their guns in their hands, all pointing it at us. It was like they were searching for something (or someone now I think of it), and I knew what was coming when their focus was brought upon me. The next step...I really do not want to recall. My dad, always with his patriotism and hatred of the Japanese, made an attempt to attack. I can still hear my mother's scream and the cry of my baby sister. The soldiers kept on shouting out orders that I couldn't understand at all and the next think I know I being forced towards the Seoul port where I would be shipped to Japan as a laborer or soldier or whatever would benefit our enemy nation; Japan.
The first few weeks in this camp was hell for me. It was probably hell for all boys that were on the same boat as me. I already saw many pass out right in front of my eyes. The hot weather and unbearable amount of labor made it impossible to even have a break to worry about my family back in Korea. Sometimes at night on my uncomfortable, bulky bunk I could hear the girls cry for help in agony. I don't want to imagine what it is they suffer from.